Tidings to Tell
by ohtobealady
Summary: a Cobert Holiday Exchange fanfic, featuring young!cobert
1. Chapter 1

He didn't even bother to tie the silken sash around his waist as his valet gathered his soiled things: a white shirt, a black coat, shoes to be polished. Robert only watched quietly as the valet finished his task and once he had gone, Robert slipped into the golden glow of the next room, warm with a fire in the hearth.

"Cora?"

The fire popped and crackled, but his wife made no sound. There she laid, her chin up, her hand resting on her stomach, her dark curls spilled across her pillow.

He shrugged off the robe, tossed it onto a creamy colored chair, and glanced at a peek through the curtains into the silvery night. It was snowing still, as it had been for nearly two days solid. It would be quite a white Christmas after all. He brought his gaze back to his sleeping wife.

"Cora?"

No response. Robert considered moving back quietly into his room, but then there it was. One small move from his wife convinced him otherwise.

She shifted her head ever so slightly in the pillow, a soft exhale accompanying her movement, and the flame's reflections threw themselves over her cheekbone like a veil.

He moved into her bed, pushing and pulling the heaviness of the covers and taking her soft hand into his own. He held it tightly. Ten months of marriage had afforded him this much. He knew how to wake her gently. So with a tender press, he kissed her hand and she hummed her approval.

"Cora."

He kissed her mouth as he said her name and she smiled against him. He watched in the flickering light as she opened her eyes.

"Are you very tired?" It was a fatuous question; he'd roused her from sleep. But to his delight, she shook her head.

"No, not very," she gave a slender smile. "Though I thought you'd be up hours ago."

Robert was already working his way atop of her, settling between her legs as she spoke, bringing his body closer to hers. "Mama and Papa wanted to finish discussing the change in arrangements for tomorrow." He kissed her mouth and then kissed her more fully when he felt her body, ever so slightly, rise up to meet his.

"The change?" Her words were spoken against his mouth, her hands all the while working to free him of his pajama trousers.

He nodded. "Mmm, yes." He spoke against her neck, near her ear. "Your parents are coming in two days, in time for Christmas," he kissed her, "James's arrival is now tomorrow," he kissed her, "and then of course there are all the others who've decided to come earlier as well." He kissed her again, tasting her mouth and relishing it. The words he spoke were just a memory on his lips, said without feeling and only because they lingered there between him and her. "Lord and Lady Plythe, Charles, Anne..."

Her hands were on his cheeks as she peppered kisses along his jaw, asking shortly, "Who?"

"Mama's friends," he answered mindlessly. "Their son, and their niece, Anne." Cora kissed his mouth. Suddenly, and quite involuntarily, he remembered a golden haired girl with whom he had grown. He saw her at eleven and taking a biscuit from his nanny. He saw her at fourteen and practicing a dance with Rosamund. He saw her at seventeen and riding out with him, a blue ribbon in her hair. "Anne," he heard his voice say again, whispered against his wife's lips, his ministrations ceasing and his mind settling in the images of years long gone.

Cora, too, had stilled. Or rather, she had stiffened considerably under his arms. "Anne?"

With a little shake of his head, he settled his eyes on his wife's. A flame popped in the silence.

"Never mind," he tried and touched her skin, closing his eyes.

But she moved beneath him, not allowing his fingers to find the hem of her nightdress to pull it higher.

"Robert," Cora's brows were hard and furrowed. "Who is Anne?"

"Never mind, Cora."

"Have I met her?"

He let out a huff of air. An instant sort of tiredness burned in his joints. "As I said before, Cora," he shook his head, though he wasn't sure why. "She's the niece of Mama's friend. I've known her since I was a child."

"Have you?"

He groaned.

"If you've known her for such a long while, then why haven't I met her? Surely she was at the wedding."

Robert's body had cooled considerably since he entered the room, and now obviously so had Cora's, so he rolled away from his wife and found his pajama bottoms in her bedclothes.

"You haven't mentioned her before," she was saying beside him. He sighed again.

"Why is that?"

He yanked the string of the pants tighter.

"Is she staying with the Plythes here through Christmas, Robert? I had hoped that we might find some time alone on Christmas Day-"

"- Cora," he had dressed himself and now sat at the edge of her bed, looking back at her. "I'm not sure how you've spent Christmases in the past, but we'll have an entire house full of our guests at Christmas. There'll be Christmas service in the morning, Christmas luncheon and Mama's sister is due in after then. Then, of course, Christmas dinner and to exchange gifts. I'm not sure we'll find time to ourselves before it's time to retire."

She gripped the sheets.

"And besides," he continued, now standing and taking his housecoat from the chair, "your parents haven't seen you in nearly a year. I'm certain they'll want their time with you."

"-As I'm sure your old friend, Anne, will want to have time with _you_."

Robert stared at her for a moment, his jaw aching from the clamp he held on his tongue. "It's late now, Cora, and so we had best be getting our rest."

Her chest fell when she let out a breath. "Robert," she was quieter, "why don't you stay?"

"Good night, Cora."

She watched as he disappeared through the dividing door, the metallic click leaving her alone in the warm light. A log in the fireplace broke and fell and she turned her head toward it, catching the last embers sparkle from the crash. She pushed out air through her nose, her chest feeling tight with irritation - irritation with herself.

She allowed herself to lie back on the pillow. She evened out her breath and watched the shadows of the dying fire crawl around her room. She swallowed the queasiness she suddenly felt, and her hands found her stomach beneath the sheet. She rested them there, spreading her fingers wide against the softness of her nightgown and closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning light was simply a glare off of the snow, dull and achy. Cora nibbled her toast as Perkins, her maid, pulled apart the curtains further, allowing the whiteness of outside into the blueness of her room. With a sigh, Cora returned her toast to her plate. Her stomach felt unsettled.

"What time are they expected to arrive?" She rested her hands into her lap, beneath her tray.

Perkins looked at her from the string of wedding pearls she held in her hand. Cora watched her as she easily laid them across the vanity as she spoke, "I believe Grant and Harding have already left to meet them at the station, my lady."

Cora swallowed down the little toast she held in her mouth and Perkins spied her tray.

"Do you want me to take it down now, my lady?"

With a smile, Cora nodded.

Robert pulled the bottom of his coat down a touch as he glanced over at the grandfather clock. Ten o'clock now. Their train arrived a half an hour before. The carriage that had traveled to fetch them should return momentarily, he was sure. Again, images of Anne appeared in his mind's eye. It was odd, and unexpected, but not without some sort of fleeting emotion in his chest. It was an emotion he couldn't quite name, but whatever it was was wrapped tightly in nostalgia and topped with a curious bow.

"Here." Rosamund handed him a glass of warmed punch. "Fortification for the arrival." Marmaduke chuckled behind her.

He took the cup into his hand and peered into it. "Aren't you happy to see Charles? And Anne."

"Certainly I am," Rosamund blinked her eyes wider, "but I can't say I'm terribly happy they'll be staying through the holiday. This house will be packed like sardines."

Robert sipped the punch, looking at it in surprise when he tasted the dryness of the alcohol.

"…sardines that know us much too well," Rosamund continued into her own cup. She grumbled. "And I'd rather James not come at all."

"Now Ros," Marmaduke chided her sweetly, putting a hand on the small of her back. "James is your cousin. Certainly we can make allowances for his misbehavior. We should always make allowances for family."

Rosamund rolled her eyes. "I suppose."

Robert took another sip of punch. A gulp. James and Anne here together. Crickey.

"And it'll be nice to have a little tike around for the holiday! How old is Patrick now? A year, hmm?" Marmaduke was nearly bouncing in his shoes.

"A little over a year-"

"The tiny heir to the earldom!" He raised his own glass to his smiling lips. At his words, Robert's stomach dropped a bit. Rosamund eyed Robert as if she could feel the pit growing in his gut.

"Patience," she mouthed, knowingly, and Robert sighed.

"Cora!"

She descended the stairs, in her navy blue velvet, smiling briefly at Marmaduke who had called her. When she reached the bottom, she stood near Robert who nodded a good morning greeting.

"So you've come down for the _arrivée grandiose_," Rosamund stepped closer to her and lifted a brow.

Cora snuck a glance up at her husband. He was sipping from his glass and leaning into Marmaduke's excited voice as he said something in the joyfully animated way he always seemed to have.

"Would it have been wrong to stay in bed?" she whispered to her sister-in-law who smirked appreciatively.

"Not terribly." Rosamund looked around the room as her mother and father came in. "There's enough of us here to welcome an army."

Cora could hear Violet ask Carson, the under butler, for their coats.

"Well," Rosamund lifted her brows, "the moment's arrived."

Once bundled, they lined up outside accordingly, Cora standing to the left of Robert in the snow. He looked down at her beside him and found her hand, surprising her.

Her skin was soft and very, very cold. "Where are your gloves?"

She shrugged as the carriages came into view, and he dropped her hand.

"Here." She watched as he pulled the gloves he wore, finger by finger, from his hands. "Wear mine."

"We won't be out long-"

"Wear them, please." He insisted. She took the gloves from his extended hand. "I don't wish you sick."

She tugged them on, obligingly, glancing up at him as he watched her work. She felt warmer under his gaze.

Finally, the carriages stopped before them. Footmen stepped forward, opening carriage doors, and what seemed a sudden crowd poured from the carriages into the crunch of the fresh fallen snow.

There was a flurry of greetings. James was there, kissing Cora's cheek more roughly than he should. How was it that he smelled of whiskey before midday? Emma, James's wife, hugged her softly and motioned toward the young toddler a nurse held behind her of a blond little boy. Cora noticed he looked very much like Emma, and prayed that he behaved as her, too. A middle-aged Lord and Lady laughed with Robert's parents and Cora could see out of the corner of her eye that Robert smiled along with them all. And then Cora took a breath in. There, standing near the Plythes, she had spotted her.

Honey-colored hair with a small bee-stung mouth, Anne was pretty. Anne was disappointingly very pretty.

Cora felt herself tense when Anne crunched lightly over to where she and the others stood. She had greeted Rosamund, Marmaduke, and now she stood very close to them, she and Robert.

Robert held open his arms.

"Anne."

Cora watched the scene as Anne kissed her husband's cheeks, stepping back to see him, feigning a sort of appreciation as if he were some work of art. Cora suppressed the scowl she felt.

"My, but you do look well, Downie. I'm so glad."

She felt her lips twitch. The scowl was fighting to break into the open.

"I cannot believe it's been a year since we've seen one another last. An entire year."

Robert laughed, "And how was the continent, Anne? Are the French nearly as amusing as they let on?"

They both laughed together and Cora had to take in a deep breath.

"Here now, please," Robert held his hand out toward Cora and Anne's eyes followed. "Meet Cora."

She caught her eyes, a pair of gray bright things that shimmered against the snow. Cora smiled as nicely as she could bear it.

"Hello." Anne's voice was suddenly as cold as the air around them. Cora's smiled faltered slightly.

She saw as Anne's eyes lingered a moment longer on her own, then trailed their way to Cora's hands, Robert's too-big gloves fitting awkwardly, the tips of them hanging from her slender fingertips.

Anne gave a very tight smile. It did not reach her eyes. "You don't look at all like I expected."

Cora opened her mouth to respond, but couldn't find quite what to say. She felt as awkward as the gloves she wore, especially standing closer to Anne, the girl she had known nothing of but who had apparently known of her. Anne's height met Cora's shoulder and thus resulted in Cora's feeling quite like a giant of a woman.

Please, Cora found herself praying, please, anyone, say something.

"Let's all go in before we catch cold!"

The group all looked to Violet who had lifted her chin to speak to everyone. Cora breathed easier.

As the group began to move in, Cora caught Robert's arm.

"Robert, wait." She paused when he turned and looked down into her eyes. New snow had begun to fall slowly, "Before we go in, I want to apologize for being so childish last night. But surely you understand why I wonder why you've never mentioned her."

"Cora-"

"And I would still rather like to find time alone with you on Christmas Day, if we can manage it."

Robert sighed in response, but pressed a chaste kiss to the top of Cora's dark hair. Tiny white flurries had landed and had begun to melt in the thick of it.

"It's snowing now, Cora. Come then. We'll discuss it later."

The breath she released fogged in the air between them. "Alright…Downie."

"Cora…" Robert groaned. He tugged her arm a bit to beckon her back inside, and could hear her beside him, mumbling to herself under the warmth of her breath.

"Downie. Ridiclous nickname. No one in in the family calls you that."

Robert shook his head as he stepped into the house after her.


	3. Chapter 3

"And so…" Everyone was looking around at one another as James slurred through his story. Violet stared at him intently. "I put it all in! All 60 pounds of it. Emma was furious, until I showed her the winnings. Weren't you, Emma?"

Cora sipped the tea from the warmth of her cup, blushing for Emma who sat beside her.

"I was furious, James. Yes."

And then silence. The room was achingly quiet, the embarrassment spreading through the room like a fever. Cora swallowed her tea.

"Downie?"

Fighting the strongest desire to roll her eyes, Cora looked up from her cup and saw her husband's reaction, sickeningly happy, at Anne's high voice in the quiet of the library.

Robert smiled for the break in the awkwardness that James was so adept at creating.

"Don't you remember that Christmas that we all snuck down into the kitchens and your cook at the time, oh what was her name, the one with all the curly red hair?"

Rosamund was leaning against Marmaduke, as they sat together on the couch. "Mrs. Reynolds," she answered flatly.

"Oh yes," Anne smiled. "Mrs. Reynolds. She gave us each a biscuit to decorate for Father Christmas. Wasn't that lovely? We must have all been eight or nine years old at the time. I remember being very excited to feel as if I were a baker!"

"It was very nice of her," Rosamund chimed in again, her voice still quite monotone. "Very, very nice."

"And then, of course, there was the Christmas six years ago that you got your horse. Don't you remember? Holly. Do you still have her?"

"He does," Violet answered, her voice seemingly more excited than she'd been all afternoon. "And she's turned out to be quite a good ride."

Anne clapped her hands once, softly. "Oh! We must go and ride out tomorrow then, through the snow!"

Rosamund sat up at the suggestion and grinned. Robert, too, was grinning. He hadn't ridden out in a long while, a very long while. Ever since, well, he had tried to teach Cora once. It had ended in her being thrown onto the grown, his heart pounding regretfully in his chest. But, my, he did so love to ride. Hard and fast.

"All of us!" She continued saying to the group around her. "Won't you come out, Violet? Please say you will!"

His mother shook her head and smiled, "No, no. I'll have much to do here."

"James? Emma? Surely, you'll both want to."

The couple shook their heads, James frowning as he did so.

"Uncle Frederick? Edmund?"

Robert watched Lord Plythe and his father shake their heads as well.

"I will!" Rosamund announced, taking a drink from her glass. Marmaduke agreed, too, even suggesting a time.

"Good, then it's all settled," Anne pressed her pink lips, quite proud. "Ten o'clock, so we can be in time for luncheon. The four of us."

"Four?" It was Rosamund who had caught the mistake, and Robert cringed inwardly that he hadn't spoken first.

All eyes went to Cora, who sat very straight and still on the sofa next to his sister. Her beige dress hugged her chest tightly as she breathed evenly, but deeply.

"Oh, of course. I forgot." Anne pursed her lips, making them even more attractive than they'd been a moment before. "I'm not so used to there being a fifth."

Robert felt himself move to speak, but couldn't find what to say.

Anne, however, continued. "Do Americans ride, Carol? How curious."

He looked into his lap, the realization of why his mother had tried to push a match between them suddenly quite clear. She and his mother were exactly alike.

"Cora," she corrected, her eyes looking dangerously watery, but her shoulders still straight and square. "And yes. Americans ride."

Anne pulled in a breath, making to say something, but Cora spoke again instead.

"But I won't accompany you tomorrow."

The room was quiet again, save for the occasional slurp of a drink from James. Violet even endeavored to ease the tension by offering another round of tea for everyone. But Cora stood, gathering her beige skirts around her and averting her gaze.

"Excuse me, but I'm afraid I've grown quite tired."

The men stood, including Robert, and watched as she walked from the library. Rosamund mumbled a good night.

Sitting back onto the couch, Robert sunk into guilt. Cora wasn't an overly sensitive woman, not truly, but he was certain that Anne had offended her. He was pulled from his thoughts when the cushion beside him dipped from Anne's weight. He looked to her, grinning politely, but not welcomingly.

"I hope I didn't upset her." Her voice was low. Now that the group had begun to break up, private conversations began to blossom throughout and no one seemed to be paying much attention to them. "I don't want her to think me rude."

Robert furrowed his brow at her, "Cora wouldn't think that."

"No?"

He shook his head. Cora hardly ever thought anyone rude. She hardly thought anything bad about anyone. It was one of the things Robert liked most about her. She always seemed to see everyone in his best light. He frowned. "She's rather sweet, Anne."

Her face remained unchanged for a moment, just watching him silently until at last, she smiled. "I'm sure she is."

Robert nodded once, emphatically. "She is." He stood, Anne looking up at him with wider eyes. "I'm going up, Anne. Good night." He looked around the room. "Good night, everyone. Mama, Papa."

He felt as Anne looked around the room with him.

"Downie?"

He peered down at her.

"You'll ride out tomorrow, won't you?"

Robert swallowed. "Yes," he answered. "I'll ride out."

He cracked open the dividing door, the glow of her room meeting him as it did night after night. Only this time, she slept on her side, away from the door. He could see her shoulder rising and falling with her breath.

Instead of calling her name, he let her sleep, slipping off his robe silently and slipping in her bed beside her.

He let his arms find their way around her middle, pulling her slowly to him, nestling his face into the now-familiar scent of her hair that pooled at her neck. His chest felt lighter here, his heart felt warmer.

"Robert?"

He opened his eyes, realizing that he had drifted off for a moment, and sighed against her. "Yes?"

"I don't mind if you go riding tomorrow. Not if you want to."

He hugged her closer, "I will go." He nuzzled further into the softness of her hair. "You are welcome to join," he added into her dark tresses.

He felt her body shrink smaller as she exhaled. "I'm not very good at it, Robert. You know that."

There was a silence. The fire crackled and it comforted Robert back into a sleepy lull.

"Besides that," he blinked his eyes open at the sound of her voice. "I don't think it'd be a very good idea, considering."

He nodded against her, though he wasn't quite sure of what she spoke. Perhaps it was the preparations for her parents' arrival. His eyes closed heavily again, her body's warmth inducing a small curl to his lips.

"I love you."

And just like that, the curl was gone. He swallowed.

When she said that, when she admitted her feelings like that so freely and openly, it made his breath get caught up in his throat. And he knew why.

His arms encircled her more tightly. He pressed a kiss to her hair and closed his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Carson held the little silver tray out to her, the pearl handled letter opener and cream-colored envelope lying primly upon it.

Cora smiled up at him, putting her book to the side and closing it. She took the letter and knife from the plate and she moved to open it, but was startled by a voice.

"Are they back yet?"

Cora looked over her shoulder at her mother-in-law's entrance and shook her head. She took in a breath when she thought of it. They'd been riding for over an hour and a half now, just the four of them. Rosamund, Marmaduke, Robert, and Anne. She frowned. Anne.

"Not yet," Cora said, licking her lips.

"Hmmm." Violet sighed and then asked lifted her eyes. Quietly, she asked Carson for some tea. He left promptly and the two women were left alone, in silence.

Cora watched her as she settled onto the sofa opposite, lifting her brows when she caught Cora's stare. "Yes?"

"Oh," Cora brought her eyes down into her lap, touching her unread letter. "Sorry. It's nothing."

There was more silence. A bell ornament on the Christmas tree in the hall rang in the distance, and the sound of footmen's voices was muffled in the library.

"Cora."

She responded to her name, seeing Violet again, who held her hands in her lap.

"It would have been polite to accompany them."

Cora moved her jaw inside her mouth, not saying the first answer that had come to her mind. That would have not been polite.

Violet, meanwhile, dipped her chin, "Though under the present circumstances, I'll excuse it."

Cora felt her mouth fall open, very slightly, as she looked at Violet. Her mother-in-law's hands drew closer to her stomach. Her mouth twitched.

"Yes," Violet now looked down her nose, a small grin playing at the corner of her mouth. "I'll most happily excuse it."

"Mama-" Cora began, but as the library door opened again, she blinked her attention back to her letter. The tray of porcelain Carson held rattled in his grasp and Cora picked up her letter again. She pulled it from the envelope and she read. As she read, her breathing grew heavier. She could feel her countenance cloud over, her features hardening with the news.

"My dear. Cora?"

She could hear Violet as she called, but didn't look up. Her eyes lingered on the words she read.

"What's happened, Cora?"

She dropped the letter into her lap again, her eyes never leaving it.

"They aren't coming."

Violet shifted in her chair. "Who, dear?"

Cora could feel her throat tightening. She could feel a heaviness behind her nose. She could feel a burning in her eyes. They weren't coming. Her mother and father, whom she hadn't seen since February, ten months ago, since her marriage. They weren't coming. The letter having arrived the day before they were expected. They weren't coming.

The doors in the Great Hall were opened and Cora could hear the crowd coming in from their ride, laughing and joking. It was too much. It was much too much.

She rose from the sofa, her mother-in-law's careful inquiries in the space she left, and she went out into the hall, going to the stairs.

"Oh, Downie! You did it purposefully, didn't you? The snowball. And now I'm all wet."

Cora swallowed the lump that strangled her. She was rushing past them all. She wanted to ignore them all.

"You are a naughty boy! You had better be mindful of Father Christmas, you know. He shan't bring you any gifts!"

Cora's hand was trembling as she gripped the banister; the other hand touched her mouth as it shook.

"Anne," Robert was laughing, "I do believe the snowball was most warranted after the flood of snow you managed to kick up over me!"

The group laughed. Cora's chest shuddered. She had begun to cry. _No, no, no._ She wasn't yet in the seclusion of her room. _Don't cry yet. Not yet._

"Cora?"

It was Rosamund. She could hear her coming closer, but she moved more quickly.

"Cora, darling, whatever's the matter?" Rosamund questioned again.

Robert saw her slender figure on the stairs. He stepped toward her, his brow dipping in concern.

She paused on the step. "It is nothing, really," she choked. She couldn't look down at them. She couldn't see their wet clothes and smiling faces. They were all having a happy Christmas, and she was retreating to her room to bury her face in her pillows.

"I just need a lie down," she frowned and hurried away up the stairs, closing her door behind her.

* * *

><p>It was nearly two hours later when Robert crept into her room. He expected her either lying in her bed or at her vanity, her maid readying her for dinner that was fast approaching, but she was in neither spot. Robert looked around the room and found it was quite empty.<p>

"There now, my lady."

His eyes shot toward the bath chamber, the door opened a crack and warm light seeping through.

"Would you like me to bring you a glass of water?"

Robert narrowed his eyes and stepped toward the maid's voice, touching the handle of the door and listening.

"No, it'll only make it worse," Cora croaked out. He could hear her sniffle.

Robert stood straighter and pushed open the bathroom door, very slightly, revealing his wife and her maid.

Cora stood, gripping a washrag at her mouth by the sink basin. Her maid stood behind her, holding her hair that looked half finished at her shoulders.

When he cleared his throat, Cora gasped.

"Robert? What are you doing in here?"

He looked around, unsure of why she seemed so distressed. "I just thought I'd escort you down to dinner, but I see you aren't yet ready."

Cora looked behind her at Perkins. "No. Not quite. You go ahead."

"I can wait, if you'd like."

"No." Cora stood straighter and dropped the cloth from her lips. "No, Robert. Please. Go ahead down. You mustn't keep our guests waiting."

He stood still, however, and looked at her. "You're quite sure?"

When she sighed, her shoulders slumped. "Robert. Go. Please."

Reluctantly, Robert acquiesced, feeling uneasy in his descent down the stairs. His heart raced in his chest. The image of his wife - her bright eyes, her dark hair, her sweet little nose that he had kissed playfully in her bed only a week before – raced just as quickly in his mind.

* * *

><p>He pushed open the door of the library, his mouth too dry and nearly ran toward the table of decanters. He stopped midway, however, surprised to see his father there, holding a glass of his own.<p>

"Robert?"

He wanted to turn around and go out again, but didn't. Instead he sighed and stepped closer, taking a glass from a tray that rested on the table, it shimmering in the firelight.

"Son, you seem upset."

Robert finished his trek, took his drink, swallowed quickly, and placed it back onto the table, closing his eyes.

"Do you care to discuss it?" Edmund's voice, though deep, was sincere and Robert found himself sighing.

"It's Cora."

His father hummed beside him, beckoning him on. But Robert couldn't continue on. He didn't know what to say. How could he put into words the way his chest felt when he thought of her? How could he put into words the way his heart leapt up when he was with her, in the darkness of her room? And then of course, the way he felt that everything was right in the world when he held her close after they'd been together. How could he tell his father that that was nearly more satisfying than the coupling itself?

"Have you told her?"

Robert brought his eyes to his father's face. A gray stubble had begun to appear and the shadow of it made it more prominent in the shadows of the flames.

"What?"

Edmund lifted his brows. "Have you told her?"

Robert swallowed and turned around toward the fire. Dozens of Christmas cards seemed to glow on the mantle.

"No."

He heard his father laugh condescendingly. "It's time for dinner. Come."

Edmund moved from the room, but Robert remained a moment more, his eyes focusing on one Christmas card in the near distance.

_Glad tidings of love and joy._

_Love and joy._

Love.


	5. Chapter 5

He kept watching her in the light of the fire, her expression one of being far away, lost in her own thoughts.

"It's still quite early," Charles, who had been too tired to join them after dinner last night, now seemed quite chipper. "Surely there's something festive we can get up to."

Lord and Lady Plythe shrugged together, mumbling something about their being due for bed a half hour ago.

Robert's eyes didn't leave Cora.

"Carson," Rosamund called the under butler who turned to her voice and lifted his prominent brows. "What are all of you doing tonight, hmm? Do you have any suggestions to get us more in the spirit of the season? Christmas is tomorrow, after all."

"Well my lady," Carson lowered the tray he held. Half a dozen half imbibed drinks glistened in the glow. "I believe that a group of the servants are planning on wassailing –"

"Caroling!" Anne and Rosamund exclaimed together, interrupting him.

Even Emma laughed. "Oh, that does sound delightful, doesn't it?"

Robert allowed himself a glance around the room. It had suddenly grown alive by the girls' enthusiasm, everyone smiling and talking. His mother and father were shaking their head good-naturedly.

"I don't believe caroling is quite for us tonight," his father said.

His mother nodded in agreement, "Why don't you all go? I think it a nice idea."

"Yes!" Anne clapped, as she had done before. "I think it's a wonderful idea!"

The excitement escalated with his mother's permission. Charles grinned madly. Rosamund and Marmaduke stood and asked Carson to fetch everyone's coats. Emma touched James's arm as he lifted his brows in near annoyance, but even he wore a tight grin.

"Alright, alright," Robert could hear his cousin mumble. "I'll join in."

He looked back to his wife. Cora still sat on the sofa, in a heavy green dress, and she hugged her middle.

"Cora?"

She glanced up to him when he spoke her name.

"You'll come, won't you?"

She looked around to everyone's faces, all – now even James's – full of delight. She nodded, though Robert wasn't convinced she truly meant she'd like to go.

They all swarmed into the hall then, a small bustle of excitement as a group of footmen emerged with their weight in outerwear.

Robert kept stealing quick glances at his wife. He watched as Joshua, a very young footman, helped her on with her coat.

"It's just like old times, isn't is Downie?" he felt Anne's arm slip through a crook in his. He stared down at her and then brought his eyes back to where Cora stood. She was staring back at him.

If her stomach hadn't already been turning unhappily, the sight of Anne clinging to Robert would have done it. Unfortunately for Cora, it had been. So now the scene churned it even further. She could feel the color from her face drain completely, and she wondered sardonically if her complexion matched her dress.

She watched half-heartedly as all the men were given a lantern, and as Rosamund shook a small paper booklet of carols that she had taken from the piano bench. The doors were opened and they all trudged out into the darkness, snow falling more heavily than she realized it had been.

As they walked, the group spread thinner, their proximity lengthening in the silvery night on their quiet walk to the tenant's farms.

Cora found herself walking more slowly than most of the others, keeping pace with James at the back of the cluster. In the swaying lights of the lanterns, she kept watch of Robert at the front. Anne still held his arm and he hadn't had the nerve to tell her no.

Cora sighed and wrapped her coat closer around her. She brushed a snowflake away from her eyelashes.

"It was wrong of me to come."

She turned her head to James who had spoken. He looked as if he were having as difficult a time as she was staying upright in the quickly thickening snowfall. She wanted to be in her bed, unmoving. Maybe her stomach would settle if she would only keep still. Then, for what could only be explained as hatred for herself, she brought her eyes again to her husband and the pretty friend that still clung to his side. She bet Anne was warm as they sang now. She bet Anne could smell the scent of Robert's coat as they now sang a song, Cora noted, that she did not know. It was an English carol, and Cora had never had an English Christmas before now.

She frowned. "It was wrong of me to stay."

She could almost hear James's questioning features beside her as they crunched along.

"Sorry," she tilted her head toward him. "It's only…well…"

James spat it out, "Well?"

Cora reminded herself that he meant well; he was just rather brusque.

"Well," she continued, suddenly not caring if James thought her girlish and silly. "Anne seems to have quite a history with Robert. Something I never knew of."

It was surprised her when James stopped walking. "What?"

Cora brought wide eyes behind her, looking back at him and stopping herself.

"He hadn't told you of Anne?"

Cora closed her mouth and shook her head, brushing another snowflake from her lashes. "No," she wagged her head.

She didn't like the way James breathed a heavy laugh. "Robert, Robert, Robert…"

She furrowed her brows. "What?"

James continued to chortle.

"What, James?" she asked again, more insistently.

James dropped the lantern at his arm's length. The light of it reflected rather eerily on the snow. "Robert and Anne were to be married before Uncle Edmund had suggested otherwise."

Cora felt hot in the snow. "What?"

"They weren't engaged, mind you, nothing like that. But it was expected, you know. Aunt Violet had all but announced it."

"Then," Cora was shaking her head in defense of her husband, "Robert didn't wish to go through with it. She must have meant nothing more than a friend if he hadn't mentioned her to me."

She brought her eyes back to where Robert walked, Anne still beside him, the two growing smaller as they continued on without them. Robert didn't even notice that Cora had fallen behind.

"Or more likely," James laughed, "Robert didn't wish to talk about the girl he first kissed."

Cora's queasiness blossomed into outright sickness. She brought her hand to her mouth.

James was still laughing, "So many firsts with Anne, I am rather sure he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable by it all."

Cora tried to swallow, but felt her body fight against it. She had to go back. She couldn't be wandering around in the snow, not like this. Not sick like she was now. She turned, and without a lantern, began to walk in the opposite direction of the carolers.

"Cora?"

She could hear James calling, but she didn't turn back. Tears were cold on her cheek.

"Cora? Do you need me to come with you?"

She ignored him still and brought her hands to her face for a moment as she walked. She'd forgotten her gloves.

Robert dropped his arm, having thought of no polite way to tell Anne to release it. Her hands fell from it abruptly and she looked at him surprised. The others began another song around them and Anne, seemingly not knowing what else to do, began to sing along.

Robert looked about, searching for Cora's face. He looked around again. And again.

"James?"

He crunched through the snow toward his cousin, an inexplicable panic rising up within him.

"James, James. Where is Cora? Why isn't she here?"

James only pursed his lips. "She walked back."

"What?" Robert's heart was in his throat.

"She walked," James paused and enunciated the last word very clearly, "back."

He needn't hear any more. His legs moved quickly under him, his feet cold in the snow, the lantern clanging as he trudged.

"Cora!" he called out in the silvery glow of the moon on the snow. "Cora!"

The snow began falling faster and thicker, and Robert began to regret wanting to carol at all. He began to regret wanting to do anything other than lie in his wife's bed, holding her as he had done the night before.

"Cora!"

At last he saw her, walking in the snowfall, and he felt himself begin to run to her.

"Cora," he panted as he gripped her arm. "Cora, what on Earth were you thinking, wandering around on your own?"

She groaned, "Oh, for Heaven's sake. The house is only here."

"And suppose you'd have lost your way in all the snow?"

He saw Cora search his eyes from a moment and then slowly shake her head.

Confused at her sudden change, Robert took her arm in his free hand, sliding it down to grasp at her fingertips. When he felt the thinness there, he looked down.

"Cora," he scolded softly.

He placed the lantern in the snow and tugged quickly at his gloves. Then, taking her hands in his, wrestled the gloves onto her slender fingers. He watched as he worked, until, at last he heard something in the quiet of the snowfall: a small sniff.

He brought his eyes to her face and found, to the furthering of his confusion, that she was crying.

"Cora?" he held her now gloved hands tighter in his naked ones. "What is it?"

She looked down at their joined fingers.

"What's happened?"

She took in another breath and then spoke, but she didn't look up at him. She couldn't look up at him.

"You kissed her."

Robert's expression hardened. "What?"

"You kissed her," she repeated. "You kissed Anne."

"Oh, of all the ridiculous-"

She looked up into his eyes, then, her nerve resurfacing. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you admit that she'd been more than a friend?"

"Because she hasn't been."

"But you kissed her."

"Cora-"

"One doesn't kiss women he claims are his friends."

"Cora, she didn't ever mean anything to me. Not really. Not in the way that you do."

He'd realized what he said when he saw her slack jaw. A snowflake had settled on her lashes and he had the overwhelming yearning to kiss it.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he closed the space between them, and brought a bare hand to her cheek.

"Do I, then?" Cora pressed her lips in the chill of the air. "Do I mean something to you, Robert?"

He breathed deeply. He nodded. "Of course you do, Cora. You mean a great deal to me." His thumb traced along her jaw. "A very great deal."

His heart was thumping too loudly. His chest felt too tight. "Cora, you do know, don't you?"

He saw her swallow. He swallowed as well.

"You do know how very much I," suddenly the sound of the caroling was on the air. Light words of "O Holy Night" floated around them with the flurries. Robert let out a breath. "Cora, I love you."

Robert thought he'd be able to breathe easier once said, but now he found, that in the silence between them, he couldn't breathe at all.

Her face seemed devoid of any emotion until, at last, it happened. She pushed her mouth against his, her lips warm on his own. His body responded instantaneously.


	6. Chapter 6

He wasn't sure how they made it back to the house or back up the stairs, but they had. Now they fell upon her bed, Robert fumbling around under her skirts and finding the laces to her underthings. He tugged them and they graciously fell limp around her legs.

"Robert, my skirt. My skirt."

His fingers went to her dress, endeavoring to take it off. But she was beneath him, kissing him, whimpering longingly when he touched the bareness between her thighs.

"Oh, damn," Robert swore, quickly giving up the task, and pushing her skirt up further instead.

Cora felt the tender roughness of his fingers and palms gripping her, holding her, and she arched her back reactively.

"Please," she heard herself moaning against his mouth. "Robert, please."

He was working himself out of his trousers, but without taking his lips from hers. Her heard her giggle lowly when he kicked his leg out behind him to lose them, like a mule. He smiled and captured her lips again, his tongue slowly finding hers and tasting it. She hummed.

His fingers went to her body once more, and the sensation of touching her there elicited another moan from them both.

"Oh God, darling."

Her voice, desperate for him, was all it took for him. He pushed inside of her, every bit of him turning fluid as he moved within her.

She could feel her lip trembling as he worked, his breath heavy in her ear.

"I love you." His words were gruff against her skin, the pleasure and truth in them unmistakable. Her eyes watered warmly and she felt him grow inside of her.

"Cora, my love, my love."

"Oh, God. Robert."

His breath was more frantic in her ear, and his arm had wedged its way between her hips and the mattress, lifting her ever so slightly toward him, the result of which was something Cora had never quite felt before.

Her legs grew stronger around his torso and she began to move against him. A coil of warmth began to tighten in her core and her lips parted in response to it.

A soft sound escaped her throat when she felt him deeper within her.

She closed her eyes, her head falling back against the bed. Robert's lips touched the skin of her neck.

"Cora, Cora, Cora," he whispered against it. Goosebumps spread through her flesh. He was close, she could feel it between her legs and deep inside of her. He was close. Warmth washed over her again.

Another sound escaped her, a squeak of a moan, and she felt the coil release.

"Robert." It came out in a long sigh. Robert stiffened above her, his breathing nearly erratic.

And then, after another moment, he fell atop of her, both breathing heavily, sweat gathered at their brows. A smile was stained on Cora's mouth.

When he at last moved again, he kissed her cheek and she brought her face to his. She nuzzled her nose against his, finding his lips as she kept her eyes lightly closed, and she kissed him.

It was another moment before he rolled away from her, and another moment more before they helped one another undress. Cora found, that without the blindness of lust, that her dress happened to be very easy to remove.

They laughed together in her bed, their fingers laced between them, and Cora rolled away from him, bringing his arms around her requesting him to hold her closely. He did.

He loved her. Robert loved her.

There was a tightness in her throat again, and she felt her nose flare as a precursor to the tears. She took a shaky breath, and took one of his hands in hers. She brought it to her belly, pressing it there, as a tear escaped her eye and trailed its way down her nose.

He loved her.

"Merry Christmas, Robert."

"Happy Christmas, my Cora."

* * *

><p>It was a joyous bustle in the room that morning as they all sat in the library opening their gifts. Paper was being torn, thank yous were being tossed about gratefully, and Patrick's small squeals of excitement made the room smile. Even James gathered him in his arms and kissed his head, pointing then at the toy horse Father Christmas had brought for him.<p>

"This is for you, Anne," Cora stepped over two boxes and handed the red-wrapped box to her, smiling.

Robert watched her, feeling such pride that for a moment he thought he'd spring up and kiss her, here in front of everyone.

She must have felt his gaze because she looked over at him, and grinned again. Robert shook his head, unbelieving how very beautiful she looked this morning. She was glowing.

There was another peal of laughter from Patrick and the room laughed.

"How wonderful!" Emma cooed down at her son. "How very wonderful, my dear boy."

Robert was chuckling and found Cora again in the room. She stood nearby, looking on at Emma as she kissed Patrick's head. Cora was smiling.

"Robert? Robert, this is yours," he took the box his mother held out to him and read the tag.

"From Father Christmas?" he mumbled and looked around the room. Cora was handing another small box to Charles. Papa held up a new set of cuff links in the light to see them better. Rosamund peeked over her husband's shoulder, watching as he unwrapped his own gift.

Robert looked down into his lap, to the box all wrapped in a light golden paper and tugged at the red ribbon. He tore nimbly at the paper and exposed a small brown box. He lifted the lid and shuffled through the paper inside. Curiously, his finger grazed something cold and he moved the paper further.

There, nestled snuggly so it wouldn't make a sound, was the silver toy he recognized from his youth. His rattle.

He lifted it slowly out of the box, shaking it a tiny bit, before knitting his brow. What was he to do with this?

He grabbed the tag again, that had now fallen on the floor. No, no; it was clearly addressed to him. He looked across the room at Patrick. No, Patrick had grown too old for rattles. This was a gift for an infant. A newborn.

He stared at the rattle itself until he knew. His jaw fell slack. He knew.

He brought his eyes up to the room, immediately finding her.

Cora stood holding another box, but watched him fixedly.

He looked at the rattle and then back up at his wife.

She was smiling.

"Cora?" he mouthed.

The smile she wore was his answer, but she nodded as well.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered across the room. "Merry, merry Christmas, Robert."


End file.
